


Love, Run (The song you know's begun)

by PersonyPepper



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Feel-good, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Husbands, Idiots in Love, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Mild Smut, Musician Jaskier | Dandelion, Parent Vesemir (The Witcher), Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, theyre stupid and infatuated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:34:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25738129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersonyPepper/pseuds/PersonyPepper
Summary: “Nervous?”Geralt hums, hiding his sweaty palms into his pockets. “No. You’re the one who’s performing.” He is, actually, quite nervous; the crowd chants Jaskier’s name from the other side of the curtains though Jaskier’s still got— Geralt looks down at his watch— nearly thirty minutes to go.Truth be told, Geralt’s always nervous before Jaskier goes to perform; fans are quite wild in their adoration sometimes, nearly feral and open to taking any chance to get noticed— well not all of them, but a fair bit, enough to—“I can hear you thinking.” Jaskier comes to wrap his arms around Geralt’s waist. “Come now, I've known you since, when now, twelve-forty; nearly eight centuries.”Or, Geralt is nervous before Jaskier's performance and Vesemir is Tired.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 179
Collections: Geraskier Ship Week 2020





	Love, Run (The song you know's begun)

“Nervous?”

Geralt hums, hiding his sweaty palms into his pockets. “No. You’re the one who’s performing.” He is, actually, quite nervous; the crowd chants Jaskier’s name from the other side of the curtains though Jaskier’s still got— Geralt looks down at his watch— nearly thirty minutes to go.

Truth be told, Geralt’s always nervous before Jaskier goes to perform; fans are quite wild in their adoration sometimes, nearly feral and open to taking any chance to get noticed— well not all of them, but a fair bit, enough to—

“I can hear you thinking.” Jaskier comes to wrap his arms around Geralt’s waist. “Come now, I've known you since, when now, twelve-forty; nearly eight centuries.”

Geralt grunts, the corner of his lips twitching up into a smile as he looks at his lover’s dopey face.

“Okay, yeah, I had you figured out within the first month of knowing you, Mister  _ Geralt of Rivia _ , White Wolf and _ Friend of Humanity _ — fucking annoying that they won’t let me play Toss A Coin anymore, can’t sing covers my  _ ass _ — I  _ am  _ Master Bard Jaskier and I always fucking have been— telling me I can’t sing my own songs; some fucking horse-shit, Geralt—don’t you think, dear heart?”

“Hate that song.” 

Jaskier scoffs, pecking at Geralt’s lips. “You’ve been thumping your foot to it for nearly a million years, you,”  _ kiss _ , “utter,”  _ kiss, _ “fool.”

“Hmm, I was a fool for marrying you, bard.”

Jaskier splutters in mock outrage and Geralt’s so fucking fond of everything about him, from his stupid silk shirt in place of his doublets to his wide blue eyes that Time hasn’t changed.

“No one says bard anymore, old man,” he teases, eyes glinting in the dull light.

“You’ll always be my bard. '' Jaskier grins, pressing their foreheads together.

“And you my broody witcher.” Geralt hums and presses a kiss to his husband’s lips, relishing in the way he calms, melting as he slips his tongue into Jaskier’s mouth, hands traveling down his back. 

Vesemir clears his throat behind them, eyes so stern that it reminds Geralt of when he was but a pup, red dye in his hands, seconds away from being dumped over Lambert’s head in the armory.

“Twenty minutes— and Geralt,” amber eyes bore into his own, a subtle warning written in the expression, “If you fuck up his throat again, I  _ will  _ chop your dick off and leave outside your door as a present.”

Ah, not so subtle after all.

“Well,” Jaskier chuckles, “that’d be interesting to see.”

Though they both still have their witcher abilities and Vesemir’s older than him, Geralt has no doubt that his mentor would kick his ass if he lets Jaskier swallow his cock again.

Only one thing to do, then.

He flings Jaskier over his shoulder and jogs back to the lounge-room, his husband long-accustomed to being thrown over his back to even flinch. Not much time left, but damn if he isn’t known for being efficient.

He throws Jaskier on the couch, kicking the door locked behind him; he works Jaskier’s cock out of his jeans—

—and swallows it to the root.

Vesemir shakes his head at Jaskier' shout, nose twitching at the scent of Jaskier’s spend—

He bangs at their door, Eskel and Lambert hiding their laughs as they help with the speakers.

Vesemir sighs a long-suffering sigh.

**Author's Note:**

> Um i love them
> 
> [Come say hi on tumblr (@persony-pepper)!](https://persony-pepper.tumblr.com)


End file.
